Dazzling Lights
by CatrinaSL
Summary: Science gone wrong lands Darcy in the past, where she becomes a damsel in distress. She falls in love with her rescuer, but what will she do when she finds her way home? Femslash. Lots of angst. Hopeful ending.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Marvel Cinematic Universe, not the movies and not the television shows that have been cancelled by ABC. (I'm not bitter. Oh, wait, yes I am. BRING BACK AGENT CARTER 2kFOREVER!)

 **Also Disclaimer:** This fic is not like my other work, which generally consists of fluff, fluff, and more fluff. There is a little fluff in this, but it is outweighed by a load of angst and sadness and a great deal of a specific brand of anti-happily-ever-after angst/sadness for which I have not yet worked out a suitable portmanteau. **Do not yell at me because this fic contains angst. This fic _will_ make you cry. Consider this your warning. If you do not like angst and/or sadness,  do not read this fic.**

* * *

There were days when Darcy wondered why she stuck with Jane. Days when she was frustrated, days and she was bored, and days when she was in the middle of superhero battles. All of these things made her wonder why she wasn't just at home working hard as a barista to pay off her student loans.

And then came the day that made her sure she should have left long before: one minute she was in the lab and the next in an alley somewhere in New York. One look around told her what happened. The sounds of the city were different. The look of the city was different. And the looks people were giving her were definitely different.

She had to go somewhere. She had to do something. There had to be someone here who could help her get home.

"Excuse me, could you possibly tell me where I can find the phone company?" she asked the first slightly friendly looking person.

"You sure you don't need a department store instead, honey?" she asked, giving Darcy a once-over as she gestured to her left. "It's that way."

Darcy breathed some thanks and wrapped her jacket tighter around herself.

She had only walked six or seven blocks, but it felt like she had trekked across Manhattan. The phone company stood before her, its blandness blending well with the high-rises around it.

Darcy had focused on walking, but now that she had stopped moving, her situation had time to blindside her. She nearly fell to her knees there on the sidewalk, but saw salvation in a neon green sign that announced the existence of a restaurant in the building behind her.

Darcy shuddered and fell onto the revolving doors, letting momentum carry her inside to the counter. She grasped for a stool, and managed to prop herself up on one.

"What can I get you, Sweetheart?" a friendly voice asked. "Coffee?"

Coffee sounded great, but Darcy couldn't speak. She couldn't lift her head. She couldn't move. She could hear the girl's concerned voice saying something else, but she didn't hear it. Darcy realized she was terrified. She was in shock. She needed help.

And then arms were around her, hugging her, holding her up. A voice was soothing her, a hand was patting her shoulder. Darcy took deep breaths like she was trying not to drown.

"Is everything okay over here?" a new voice asked. It was a little familiar. Darcy opened her eyes.

"I dunno what happened, but I think she needs help, Peg," said the girl Darcy was cradled against.

Peg appeared in front of Darcy, examining her. Recognition flashed through Darcy. This was who she needed!

"Peggy!" she cried, trying to stand. "You can help me! Stark—"

"Stark?" Peggy repeated in a hushed tone. "Do you know Howard Stark?"

Darcy shook her head. Somehow she thought that Peggy would understand immediately. She opened her mouth to set her straight, but the world went black.

* * *

"Peg?!" was the next thing she heard. "Peggy, she's wakin' up!"

Darcy pried her eyes open. The girl she'd barely gotten a glimpse of before passing out was leaning over her. She was in the middle of a gigantic and fairly comfortable bed the ostentatiousness of which screamed "Stark!" Loudly.

"Did you call, Miss Martinelli?" a man's voice asked.

"Yeah, Jeeves; get Peggy. She said to get her when our mystery woman woke up, and she just did."

"My name is Mr. Jarvis, Miss Martinelli," the man corrected. Darcy tilted her head up to get a look at him. He didn't _sound_ like Jarvis. Maybe a little in the accent. "Miss Carter has just stepped out; I believe she had business at the office."

Miss Martinelli let out a sigh. "Okay, thanks, Jeeves. Can you bring us some coffee or tea or somethin'?"

There was a minuscule pause from the butler, and a smile crept across Darcy's face. "Right away," he said.

The sound of his crisp footsteps faded before Darcy's rescuer said anything else. "You okay, hon?" she asked.

Darcy nodded. "Thanks," she said. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, DD," the girl replied, hitching up the shoulder of the expensive dressing gown she was wearing. "I'm Angie. What's your name?"

"Darcy," she said, frowning a little. "Did you call me 'DD?'"

"Sure, it's a nickname: DD. Damsel in Distress." Her eyes twinkled. "It's the first time a pretty girl fainted in my arms, that's for sure," she said with a wink.

Darcy couldn't stop herself from blushing, and hoped Angie wouldn't notice.

She did. "Oh, are you too warm under all those covers?" she asked, concerned. "Here, I'll get you something to drink." Angie turned to the bedside table and poured Darcy a glass of water from the pitcher sitting there.

"Thanks," Darcy said again, and propped herself up a little so that she could down half the glass in one.

"What happened to you?" Angie asked.

"Uh..." Darcy wasn't sure what she should divulge. "I'm... from the future?" Apparently everything.

"Oh, okay," Angie said, a skeptical smile taking over her face. "Sure."

Darcy shrugged and smiled a little.

"Coffee, Miss Martinelli?" Jarvis' voice interrupted.

"Thanks, Jeeves," Angie said as he entered and set it on the bedside table.

Jarvis bristled but let it pass, then straightened and informed them, "I have telephoned Miss Carter. She asked me to tell you that she will be here as soon as possible, but that it may not be for several hours."

"Thank you, Jarvis," Darcy said.

He smiled at her. "You are quite welcome, Miss."

"Lewis," she told him. "Darcy Lewis."

* * *

Angie hovered when Peggy returned, looking on worriedly while Jarvis reported on Darcy's condition: she was a little dehydrated, but otherwise unharmed.

Peggy's eyes watched the butler's exit, then she turned to Darcy. "What made you come to me?" she asked. "Did Howard send you? Are you one of his—?"

"She says she's from the future," Angie broke in.

Peggy frowned at her, taken aback.

Darcy bit her lip and glanced at Angie while Peggy examined her. "That explains what she was wearing," she commented.

"Is she telling the truth?" Angie wanted to know.

Peggy sighed and stood. "There isn't any way to tell for sure," she said.

"There is," Darcy interjected. "But... I don't want to step on any butterflies, so... I think I should just talk to Peggy."

Angie didn't look pleased.

"I wouldn't lie to you," Darcy told Angie.

"I've heard that before," the girl replied, surveying Darcy like she was a cheating ex.

"I wouldn't believe me either," Darcy said with a sad smile.

"You're working tonight," Peggy reminded Angie, "And you've been talking for weeks about that audition tomorrow morning."

"I didn't mean I wanted you to _leave_ , leave!" Darcy burst out suddenly.

The other two women exchanged a look, and then Angie smiled indulgently. "I'll come back after my shift. Don't worry; Peggy and Jeeves'll take good care of you while I'm gone." She shrugged. "It's just for a few hours, anyway."

"If you don't want to be alone, we can make sure someone is with you at all times," Peggy soothed.

Darcy realized she was clutching the bedclothes and breathing quickly. She shook herself and tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. "Yeah... sorry, I... you've got a life; you can't put it on hold just for me."

"I'll be back right after, DD," Angie promised.

Darcy looked up into her eyes, and some of her panic subsided. "Okay. I'll see you then."

* * *

It was very delicate convincing the famously sharp Peggy Carter that she was from the future. Darcy had seen enough reruns of Back to the Future to know that there really wasn't anything she could say about the state of the world her own present that Peggy would believe from her perspective, in the past.

While she and Angie had chatted, while Darcy had her comforting presence by her side, she had thought long and hard about it. So the second Angie was gone, Darcy showed Peggy her phone.

"A whole computer? In the palm of your hand?" the brunette marveled.

"A computer, a telephone, a camera, a video camera, and I can access libraries of information whenever I want."

" _Libraries_ of information?" Peggy repeated incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

Darcy nodded, and moved on to the next phase of her plan. She pulled up a picture Steve had taken of her on a recent weekend wandering to Roosevelt Island. It was a perfect angle: you could see Avengers Tower looming behind the Chrysler Building across the river.

She knew she could blow everything if Peggy saw the next picture, the 'total BFFs' selfie they had snapped less than a minute later, but she hoped that the sight of the new buildings among the old would help Peggy to believe her.

Steve's old flame squinted at the screen. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at the UN Secretariat building.

"Um, United Nations Headquarters?"

Peggy frowned. "That doesn't look like Queens."

"Huh?"

"I heard rumors about a new campus, but nothing about plans to put it in Manhattan."

"Uh…" Darcy couldn't answer that question, so she zoomed in on Avengers Tower in the background. "Look," she said. "That's where I live. That's where I was before I showed up… here."

Darcy wasn't sure whether Peggy's eyes widened because she was starting to believe her or because of she was startled at the level of technology Darcy was displaying. "That 'A'..." Peggy began. She turned over the clock radio on the nightstand and compared the Stark Industries logo there to the picture on Darcy's phone.

Darcy decided that the whole picture thing was a terrible idea, and held down the button to turn off her phone.

Peggy pressed her lips together. "If I say I believe you, you must make me a promise."

"What?"

"Never," Peggy said, pointing at her phone, "Never show that thing to Howard."

"Yeah," Darcy agreed, stuffing the device under her pillow. "No problem."

* * *

Darcy didn't want Angie to get involved, but she didn't have a say; before she knew it, Howard Stark had arrived, freshly smuggled out of Peggy's room at the Griffith.

Howard was fully himself when he took possession of his lab, polished and refined, but Angie said he had made a very convincing inconsolable "Sally Mae, my friend from acting school." Peggy lamented the fact that no one had gotten a picture of Howard in drag, a hair net on his head, pretending to weep into a handkerchief so that he could hide his facial hair.

"The great Howard Stark," she teased, "Reduced to a lowly chorus girl, jilted by a director who promised to make her a star."

"It's happened to far better actresses than you, honey," Angie added.

Howard scoffed. "Get on with it; where's the dame you let into my house? The so-called time traveler that I'm risking my neck for?"

"Miss Darcy Lewis, sir," Jarvis introduced.

Darcy raised her eyebrow as Howard ran his eyes over her exactly the way Tony had when they first met.

"Right. Well. You don't look that futuristic."

"I was born in 1989."

He replied with another once-over and, "So fashion hasn't changed?"

Peggy rolled her eyes. "She's wearing _my_ dress, idiot."

"Oh." He looked around at everyone as though expecting them to already be rushing around, eager to fulfill his whims. "What are we waiting for, then?"

* * *

Darcy spent most of her time watching the slow progress of The Machine, calling Jarvis to bring them coffee, and handing Howard things. Howard didn't actually need her in the lab at all, but Darcy felt most at ease there. It felt like home, like Jane and Bruce and Tony, and Darcy couldn't wait to get back.

The only time she didn't mind being in the past was when Angie would stick her head into the lab and ask how things were going. "You feeling okay today, Sally Mae?" she'd jab at Howard.

"Gosh, I'd really love a new pair of nylon stockings, Ang," he'd call back from deep within his work.

She'd laugh, and Darcy would decide that Howard could do without her for a while. Pretty much anytime Angie was around was a time that Darcy remembered that Howard didn't need her help.

Thankfully, Angie was around a lot. Darcy didn't think she could have gotten through a full twenty four hours without her. She'd stop by before her shift at the Automat, after an audition, before she went home from work for the evening. Darcy heard her telling Peggy once that their landlady was getting a little suspicious of her nearly constant absence, but Angie picked up the "acting lessons" line from Howard's exit cover story and ran with it.

They would jump on the beds in Howard's guest rooms, sample his liquor, and luxuriate in his bathtub (which was nearly big enough to be a pool). They would talk about Angie's future: how she would shine under the dazzling lights of Broadway. They would laugh about small details Darcy shared of her friends "back home." They would spend hours wondering if Howard's machine could ever actually work.

And Darcy took pictures of Angie. She sneaked snaps of her from every angle possible: the back, her profile, and even a few from the front, including one treasured (though slightly blurry) shot of her smiling. Darcy wasn't quite sure why she did it. There were days that she doubted that Howard would succeed; if that were the case, she didn't need pictures of anything, because she'd be stuck in the 1940s, living it.

That didn't stop her from turning it back on one night about three weeks into her stay, after Angie had accidentally fallen asleep next to her again. She scooted up close and took a selfie. After she did, Darcy stared at the picture for a few moments. What was she doing, making friends with these people? If they achieved their goal, she'd never see them again, because they'd be dead: Howard, Jarvis and his wife, and though she knew Peggy was still around, Steve wouldn't want to share her with Darcy (and what would Peggy say if he did? Would she resent Darcy for not telling her the truth about him?). And Angie...

It was the thought of never seeing Angie again that made Darcy want to delete every single picture she'd taken of her, so that looking at them later wouldn't break her heart.

That same thought made her change her mind and take six more.

* * *

Angie called in sick the day Howard started testing the machine. He sent her little mint and orange uniform cap five minutes into the future, and they waited, watching it reappear just where she'd set it down. They celebrated with champagne, and the impromptu party made Angie forget all about the fact that she'd been told by a casting director that she was "too New York" for a part.

"D'you think I'm 'too New York?'" she asked Darcy as she started on her third glass.

"I think you're just the right amount of New York," Darcy told her. "Any less and they'd say you were a bumpkin."

"I can do bumpkin," Angie assured her. "I can do New to the City. I can do the New Yorkiest New Yorker," she said, with a thicker accent. "Or," she tilted her head and mimicked Peggy, "I can put on a bit of English."

Darcy laughed.

"Okay, everybody out," Howard ordered. "If we're gonna get Miss 1989 home, I need to do some more work."

"But—!" Darcy protested, gesturing at the alcohol.

Howard grinned and waved them away. "Take the bottle if you want; just get outta here."

Angie laughed and pulled Darcy out of the lab with her, taking her hat so that it wouldn't be lost to time.

"Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you?" Angie asked as they headed toward Darcy's room. Darcy had been careful about the things she talked about (she'd avoided mentioning Steve entirely), just to make sure she didn't reveal anything that might change the future. It was the first time Angie asked anything about Darcy's relationship status.

"Just lots of friends," Darcy told her.

"Not even what's-his-name? Clint?"

Darcy shook her head.

"Howard's a pretty good looking guy," Angie observed.

"Yeah," Darcy agreed. _If you're into that kind of thing,_ she thought.

"But it probably wouldn't be a good idea to get involved with him," Angie continued. "Not just because he's..."

"A slut?"

Angie laughed. "I guess so, sure. But I was gonna say it's not a good idea because he's from now, and you're from later. If you get home, he'll be an old man, and you'll still be you. It'd be... hard."

"It would be heartbreaking," Darcy said softly.

Angie nodded. "It would," she repeated.

They were silent until they reached Darcy's door. "I really don't feel like any more champagne," Angie told her. "I better get back home, anyway."

"Okay, thanks for helping out tonight."

"What did _I_ do?"

"Well, you let Howard experiment on your uniform; if you hadn't we'd probably have had to go outside and get a rock or something. There's no way Howard would have wanted to potentially lose any of _his_ stuff for science."

Angie laughed. "Well, you're welcome."

"You going to be around tomorrow?"

She nodded. "G'night, DD."

"Night."

* * *

Angie refused to go into the lab once Howard turned one corner of it into the amphibian section of the local pet store. She said she hated creepy crawly things, and told Darcy a story from her childhood of getting a frog shoved down the back of her dress.

Darcy supported this decision, especially after seeing the first squashed and mangled frog Howard had tried to send into the future.

Unfortunately, the third and the seventh were exactly the same, and even though Howard spent days babbling about how he was going to change the calibrations and other things he could try, Darcy had to stop spending so much time in the lab. She had no desire to think about the possibility that she might get squashed and mangled that way.

About a week and a half after Howard's sixteenth failed test, Angie arrived with grand plans.

Somehow she knew Darcy needed to get out of the apartment.

Jarvis didn't approve of their going out, but neither cared; Angie took Darcy to dinner, to a picture, and then for a walk down Broadway.

The lights shone down on them, and Darcy smiled when Angie basked underneath the sign, vowing that her name would be up there someday, putting hope in the heart of another soon-to-be amazing actress.

Angie's cheerful dreams carried them all the way back to Howard's apartment. She hung up her coat and turned to Darcy with a grin.

"Let's see if we can get Jeeves to bring us some ice cream," she said. "We can celebrate my someday-stardom early."

Darcy shook her head as she hung her borrowed jacket next to Angie's. "Ice cream can just be ice cream, you know," she told Angie. "I'd rather celebrate with you when it happens."

Angie had started toward the kitchen, but she spun back toward Darcy, her eyes full of excitement. "You mean, you know when it is?" she gasped. "Is it _soon_?"

"No, I..." Darcy sighed, torn between not wanting to disappoint Angie and needing to face the truth.

"You don't mean I... " Angie said, filling in Darcy's silence. "... _never_...?"

Darcy waved her hands, stopping Angie before she could go on. "No. I don't mean that. I mean... I... probably will still be here. I'll probably be here for the rest of my life." Darcy turned away from the look on Angie's face. "I'm sorry. I love to watch you get excited about your aspirations. I didn't mean to make this all about me. I just—"

"You think Sally Mae can't do the job?" Angie asked. Darcy sneaked a look at her. She didn't seem upset about her future, just curious about Darcy's feelings.

"That's not it. I mean, maybe. But even if he _can_ send me back, I don't know if he should. What if I'm supposed to be here?"

"Of course you're supposed to be here," Angie said, putting her hands on Darcy's shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "'Wherever you go, there you are.' But, honey, you don't belong here, don't you want to... go home?"

Darcy couldn't form the words to tell Angie that with her, she _was_ home.

Angie pulled Darcy's hands into hers. "You gotta go home if you can; what about your friends, your family? They love you; they'd miss you!" She smiled into Darcy's eyes. "Come on, now, what would you even stay for?"

The word fell from Darcy's lips before she could stop it: "You."

* * *

"Stand back," Peggy commanded, halting both Darcy and Angie at the door.

Angie grasped her hand and held on tight, and Darcy wished Jarvis hadn't interrupted them. She honestly didn't care what Howard was going on about.

"Howard, how can you be sure that you've really got it this time?" Peggy asked. "You said that yesterday, and two days ago."

"Because I really did it, Peg. Just watch!" He looked away from the ordinary-looking frog sitting on the tabletop in front of them and noticed Darcy and Angie. "Oh, good, Miss 1989, you're here. Right on time!"

Darcy rolled her eyes, unimpressed with the amount that Howard flourished his hands when all he was doing was pressing a button. Angie gasped and squeezed her hand when the frog suddenly disappeared.

"Howard…?" Peggy's tone demanded answers, but Howard was giggling maniacally.

"I sent it to the past!" he insisted. "I sent it to five minutes ago. I think. Could be a couple of minutes further back, I'm not exactly sure."

The women in the doorway stared at him.

"It's like this:" he explained. "I was about to pick a frog to use for the test, but I stopped to make some notes. Jarvis walked in with a frog in his hand, asking if I'd lost one. And when we looked, all the cages were full!"

"How do you know it wasn't just an extra that had escaped?" Peggy asked.

"Because, Peggy, it was tagged. Number thirty-two, just like this cage." He pointed to one that was empty. "The frog Jarvis brought in and the frog in the cage were the same one. Add that to the fact that while I was explaining to him why he shouldn't put it in the cage with itself because of temporal displacement and paradoxes, it disappeared!"

Darcy glanced at Peggy; she raised an eyebrow, but seemed unimpressed.

Her look only frustrated Howard. "Don't you see what this means?" he asked. "I knew I could do it, because I already had!"

When there was no response, he threw up his hands and headed back toward the machine. "Look, I'll show you. I need to put it back, anyway."

"Put it back?" Peggy asked. "What does that mean?"

Howard sighed theatrically while he messed with his invention. "It means I've been going about things the wrong way." He looked up and gestured at Darcy. "I've been trying to send her into the future, when really I should've been figuring out how to fix the time displacement. Basically, it's putting things back where they belong. The frog in the kitchen five minutes ago is there now, because a few seconds ago, I sent number thirty-two there." He glared at them. "You were watching. Now—" he spun a dial and fiddled with something. "—I restore it to where it _should_ be."

"How do you know this will work?" Peggy wanted to know

Howard looked offended. "Because—" He gestured wildly. "It already did!"

"Wait!" Peggy yelled, but Howard did another stupid flourish and flipped a switch.

Darcy felt Angie tighten her grip.

She thought she heard her cry, "DD!"

But she wasn't in the lab. She wasn't in an alley, either, so that was good. It looked like the Avengers common area in the Tower. It even had Thor sitting on the couch with his arm around Jane, who looked upset.

Darcy frowned, trying to think of a reason why Jane would be upset.

And then she fainted.

* * *

Darcy opened her eyes and frowned. The ceiling looked different.

"Oh, my god, Darcy," came a gasp from her side.

She turned her head and found a weepy Jane there.

"Darcy?" A voice from the door. Steve.

"Where's my phone?" she asked him.

Steve looked as though that was the last thing he expected her to ask. "I... don't know," he said. "It wasn't on you when you... came back."

Darcy tilted her head, trying to think of where it had been before...

Peggy's handbag. It had been in Peggy's handbag, and she'd dropped it when Angie—

"Get me a tablet. A laptop. Anything," she commanded.

"Darcy—" Jane pleaded.

Tony appeared in the doorway then, a device in his hand.

"Give me that thing," Darcy said.

"Why didn't you tell me she was awake?" Tony asked Steve, an accusing tone in his voice.

"She just—" Steve began.

"Give me your tablet!" Darcy shouted, sitting up from where she was laying on a hospital-style bed and reaching for the computer in Tony's hand.

"I need to ask you some questions," Tony said instead.

Darcy fastened her eyes on his and silently insisted.

"Just give it to her, Tony," Jane said tearfully.

Steve sighed and stepped inside the room, putting his arm around Jane, and Tony followed slowly, allowing Darcy to snatch the tablet as soon as he was close enough.

He sank into the chair on the other side of the bed and weakly asked, "What happened?"

Darcy didn't pay much attention; she was googling fiercely and getting nothing for her trouble.

"Darcy," Tony said softly. "I—we thought you were dead."

No Angela Martinelli on imdb or wikipedia, nor, thankfully, in any obituaries. Darcy changed her tactics and focused on playbills. Maybe she'd moved, or… or gotten married, or something.

"You were gone for six days," Tony told her. "Where were you all that time?"

Darcy sighed, finding nothing she recognized even in the chorus lines of the New York stage scene.

"Darcy," Jane said again. "Please, tell us. Where were you?"

"Darcy?" Steve urged.

She looked up at him. There was a strange look in his eyes; it wasn't just concern that she might be crazy, it was more than that. Fear? What was Steve afraid of?

"Peggy," Darcy said suddenly. Steve's eyes widened, the word hitting him like a physical blow. "I was wearing Peggy's dress."

Tony sat up and scooted forward. "We're running tests on it now," he told her. "Were you—"

"I should give it back to her," Darcy said, still focused on Steve. "I didn't mean to borrow it for this long."

Steve held a hand out to silence Tony. "She never said anything about you," he whispered.

"I never said anything about _you_ ," Darcy replied. "I didn't think it would help anything. And..." She sighed. "Will you take me to see her, Steve? I should apologize. And I have some things I need to know."

He smiled, sadness in his eyes, and nodded.

* * *

The common room was dark, but Darcy was sitting there anyway. She didn't want to open the box Peggy had given her that morning when a bunch of people were around, watching her get stabbed in the heart when she saw what was inside.

It wasn't that she was afraid of the others seeing her tears, but anguish is best felt alone.

She was halfway through the stack of things when she heard him come in.

"Steve's worried about you," he began.

She smiled. "And you're not," she finished.

"I didn't..." He sighed. "Are you... How are you?"

"Terrible," she replied.

After a few moments of silence, he said, "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "The consequences of science," she replied.

Darcy listened to Tony shift his weight as he decided whether he should stay or go.

Finally, he stepped toward her. "How did you get back?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, but she turned and held out the notebook for him.

"What's—?"

"It starts out, 'I don't know why you're messing around with time travel, idiot, but, well, you shouldn't.' The rest is incomprehensible."

Tony looked down at his father's handwriting as though he'd never seen it before. "Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Peggy had it waiting for me today," she told him. "I'm pretty sure those are the plans for his 'put it back where it goes' machine. But maybe you should do as he says and forget the whole project."

She watched him try to figure out how to reply, then smiled.

"You're like him, you know."

Tony's eyes snapped up to hers.

"You probably hear a lot how much you look like him, or how you inherited his smarts. But that's not what I mean."

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Howard was on the run when I showed up; he'd had some inventions stolen and the SSR thought he was the worst guy ever. Peggy was helping to clear his name. But when he heard I needed help, he just... dropped everything, acted like he wasn't an internationally wanted man, and worked on that for weeks." She nodded at the notebook in his hands. "Yeah, you resemble him. Yeah, you're both geniuses. But the strongest resemblance is how when it really matters, you'll do anything for your friends."

After a moment, he stepped forward to where she sat on the back of the couch and wrapped his arms around her.

"Don't apologize, Tony," she whispered into his shoulder.

"But... you're sad," he mumbled back.

"Just because I'm sad doesn't mean I'm not grateful."

* * *

Darcy looked down into the bottom of the box and sighed.

Six weeks ago, Peggy had smiled at her. She'd shaken her head when Darcy tried to apologize for not telling her about Steve. She'd given her the box.

Darcy had emptied it slowly, transitioning carefully from the past back to the present. Now, it was empty except for her phone.

She had no idea whether it would work, even if she charged it. She didn't know if she _wanted_ it to work.

She plugged it in anyway.

"Hey," Steve said from the doorway as he leaned in and knocked on the frame. "You ready to go?"

Darcy sighed. "Yeah, gimme a minute." She set the dusty phone on her bedside table. "Let's do this."

"You're not bringing your phone?" he asked. "I thought you'd want to take a few pictures, like we... uh, like we used to. Before."

She pulled out her new one in reply.

"Oh," he stared between them, confused. "Then what's—"

"Let's just go, Steve," Darcy interrupted. "I know you love me and that you're just trying to show me everything is normal again by dragging me out on a bike ride so I'll talk to you, and I know it's not fair for me to be annoyed with you about it since you're the only other person ever to go through anything like what I went through, but I am, so let's go. BFF Bike Rides 2k15."

He looked a little hurt, but fell into step beside her as she left the room and headed for the elevator.

"I just thought it might be easier to talk about if we were somewhere else, where no one could interrupt or feel sorry for you."

"Except you," Darcy added.

"Except me," Steve sighed. "But... I'm the BFF, so isn't it okay for me to be worried about you? To try to help you if you're hurting?"

Darcy smiled at him, but he didn't fall for it.

Ten minutes later, they were making their way carefully toward the river.

"You're right," Darcy called. "I'm sorry."

"What was that?" Steve called back, a grin on his face.

He'd heard. He just wanted her to say it again. Darcy stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed.

"That one's real!" he said, pointing at her face, and Darcy was a little surprised to find she had been smiling.

She shook her hair out of her face and raced Steve toward the bridge, wondering when she'd smiled her last real smile.

Steve won the race, because he was a super soldier and she was a regular human. He was staring at Manhattan when she pedaled up and leaned against the information kiosk.

"I already got you one," he said, waving a bottle of cold water at her, preventing her from having to dig in her pockets for money.

She frowned at him but took the water; Steve turned and leaned against the stone barrier of the park and looked up at the smallpox hospital.

"This place was open when I joined the army," he commented. "Now, it's..."

Darcy joined him, hoisting herself onto the wide stone fence and gazing at the dilapidated building. "It's old and out of place," she finished. "Is it what you felt when you got here?"

Steve glanced back at the skyscrapers behind them. "Yeah," he said. "I felt like there wasn't any place for me. I didn't fit in, didn't have a purpose."

"I'm supposed to be here," Darcy told him, taking a huge drink of water. "But I left my heart back there."

Steve was silent. He just watched her, waiting.

"I looked for her. For weeks. I searched every database I could think of, but she wasn't anywhere. I was so frustrated... it seemed like none of that stuff Peggy gave me helped. There were a stack of half-written letters, but none of them had an address. But the last one..." Darcy didn't try to stop her tears. "Angie wrote it the day I was born."

Anybody else would have been impatient, asking her questions or trying to say something comforting. Steve just waited.

"It had everything I needed to find out exactly where she is."

Steve put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulders, encouraging her to continue.

"She never got to be on Broadway, but she had a small part in a movie once. The dazzling lights of Hollywood. I couldn't find her because she used a stage name, 'Dorothy Wilkerson.'" Darcy shoved the tears off of her cheeks. "She said they called her 'DD' on set."

"Darcy..." Steve murmured.

"She moved up to Portland not too long after that and was the heart and soul of a local theater; she had her cousins' kids over in the summer to help them with their acting, and loved saving all the newspaper articles about the kids she mentored who went off to great things on the stage and screen." Darcy looked down at her hands. She played with the cap of her water bottle, popping it open and snapping it shut.

"Do you want to go see her?" Steve asked quietly.

Darcy shook her head. "She's gone. I found her obituary. Breast cancer. 1997."

She couldn't look at Steve, so she turned and looked out across the water, at the view that was so different from the one she had left behind. Then she took a deep breath and said, "Angie lived her whole life without me. Steve, how am I supposed to live mine without her?"

"You just live," Steve whispered. "Living doesn't mean you stop thinking about her, or stop missing her. You keep going, and you do what you can to make her proud of you."

* * *

Clint was in the kitchen when Darcy walked into a common area and started messing with the entertainment system.

"Hey, Darcy," he called. "Watching a movie?" When she didn't reply, he continued, "Wasn't today your first day back in the lab? How did that go?"

"They moved the entire thing," she replied. "The whole lab. They didn't want to stir up any bad memories."

"Oh," Clint said awkwardly, obviously feeling bad for having brought the subject up.

"Dude," she said, sticking her head out from behind the entertainment system. "It's okay. I think it's a little silly, but honestly, they're probably right." She stepped back and grabbed the remote, poking at it until the home screen of her phone popped up on the television.

"My first day back was great," she told him. "Like riding a bike." Then she frowned and clarified: "Like riding a bicycle in the present instead of in the past. I helped Howard out a little when I was there... They do things a little differently now; more high-tech stuff, less 'here, hold up the end of this insanely heavy table so I can level everything out.'"

"That's good to hear," Clint said, sounding relieved. "You want me to leave you alone or should I pop some popcorn and join you?"

"Oh, I'm not going to watch a movie," Darcy told him. She blew out a long breath. "I want to look at the pictures stored on my phone, and I'm tired of being alone in my room, so, yeah, if you want to pop some popcorn, that's fine. I can't promise that it's going to be super exciting or anything, but I wouldn't mind the company."

The smell of popcorn drew an off-duty Jane and Thor.

"Darcy is that your old phone?" Jane asked. "I thought you left it…"

"Seriously, Jane, I'm fine," Darcy said. "You don't have to tiptoe around me anymore, I'm okay, really." She sighed. "I did leave this phone in the past. Peggy loaned me her bag to go out. It was really cute; it matches the dress I came back in. But I guess I dropped it when—" Darcy stopped and swallowed.

"Darcy, you don't have to—" Jane began.

"No, I'm okay." Darcy fiddled with the remote, selecting the pictures folder, which then popped up on the television. "I'm ready to talk about it. I _want_ you guys to look at these pictures with me! It's not healthy to stay alone in my room and cry over them."

"Are you sure?" Jane asked.

"Totally," Darcy said.

Thor clapped her on the back. "Burdens are lighter when shared with friends," he told her. "Come, show us your pictures."

Darcy sat down with the people who loved her within reach to look at pictures of the one person she never could again.

Laughter at the ridiculous pictures she and Steve had taken just days before she left drew the man himself, who came to join them just as Darcy was showing the rest the shot of the Manhattan skyline that had convinced Peggy that she was from the future.

Steve smiled at the mention of her name, and that look gave Darcy the courage to face the pictures she knew were coming.

"Peggy made me promise never to tell Howard about my phone, so there are no pictures of him. Also I was worried about the battery, so there aren't a ton—" Darcy flipped to the next picture.

"Darce," Clint breathed, "is that her?"

It was only a fuzzy picture; Darcy had barely caught Angie's profile. She had taken it while laying in bed, once when Angie heard Peggy call and had gotten up to see what she wanted.

She was still wearing her automat uniform, but her hat was gone and her hair was down, curls flying everywhere.

"Wow," Steve said quietly.

Darcy looked up at the picture, realizing that she had expected to cry.

Instead, she just grinned at Steve and said, "Yeah, she was amazing. And such a great actress. She used to mimic Howard calling for Jarvis, and then we'd hide behind the bedroom door and try not to laugh when he went in to see what Howard wanted."

She laughed at the memory. "We gave ourselves away about half the time. The funniest thing was, though, that Jarvis tried so hard not to fall for it that he stopped going to the lab when it was actually Howard who wanted him!"

Clint and Steve laughed.

"My brother and I used to do something much the same when we were children," Thor said. "My mother would pretend she was tricked, and we thought ourselves very clever. Then we grew; my voice became nearly a match to my father's, especially with my brother's magic to help it along. The look on her face the first time she came to us, thinking Odin had called! Ah, Loki was so proud."

"That was the funniest part!" Darcy said excitedly, "she didn't really even sound that much like him! I dunno, maybe the kitchen had some weird acoustics or something, or maybe it was just the the fact that for once she wasn't calling him 'Jeeves.'"

"So that's why," came Tony's voice from the doorway. "Jarvis was always salty about anybody who couldn't get his name right. Normal thing to get mad about, I thought, but the one he always hated the most was 'Jeeves.'"

Tony joined them, and together they looked through the pictures Darcy had taken. She told them about a few more capers with Angie; Jane told a hilarious story about trying to take selfies with Thor; and Steve shared a very sweet memory about Peggy.

As the night wore on, Jane and Thor left to have dinner, Tony raced off to see if he could find the recipe for a dish Darcy had said she had eaten (and to see if his chefs could make it), and Steve squeezed Darcy's shoulder before he left to go make a phone call.

Darcy flipped through the last few selfies she had taken with the sleeping Angie. "I wish she'd seen these," she told Clint. "Some of her letters... she missed me so much. I wish she'd been able to have these pictures. Maybe..."

Clint sat forward and put his arm around her, awkwardly asking, "How long were you two together?"

"We weren't, really," Darcy replied, flicking to the next picture.

"But—" Clint began.

Darcy shook her head. "Oh, we were totally in love, yeah. But it wasn't the kind that you talk about, it was just the kind where you spend as much time together as you can and just... be."

Clint squeezed her shoulder. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

"We kissed once," Darcy said. "Right before... I came home."

"You did?" Clint sat up a little.

Darcy nodded, flicking to the next picture, where she'd pressed a kiss on a sleeping Angie's brow. "Not that one," she said, then flicked to the next and looked down at the table.

"We went out. Like, on a date. It was... Clint, it was probably the best night of my life. Back there, I never felt at home unless Angie was around, and that day, we went on a normal date, just the two of us, walking around the city... it was like, I could finally see myself being there, with her, forever. I tried to tell her that when we got back to Howard's. I said something like I wanted to meet her at the stage door after her first night on Broadway. She thought I was, like, revealing the future, but I said I wanted to be there whenever it happened, that I wanted to stay, that I wanted to be with her. And then she kissed me."

Darcy felt tears drip down her nose. Clint pulled her closer, giving her a one-armed hug, and letting her put her head on his shoulder.

"She kissed me until Jarvis interrupted us. Looking back on it now, I think he apologized like eight times, but I wasn't really listening, I was just… my heart was bursting, I was so happy.

"And now, that's all I have," she whispered. "A few pictures I took when she wasn't aware, and one kiss." She flicked to the last picture.

"Darcy," Clint said, looking up at the television. "Are you sure she didn't know you were taking pictures?"

"Huh?" Darcy looked up.

There, on the screen, was another selfie, only Darcy wasn't in it. It only contained a very fuzzy and slightly confused-looking Angie.

Darcy swiped to the next. It was clearer, and Angie was smiling; not exactly into the camera, but close enough.

In the next she was grinning, her face close to the camera.

"Oh my god," Darcy gasped, an excited laugh coming through her tears.

The next picture was a cheeky wink, the next, a profile, the next, a kiss. The next was...

"Clint—" Darcy choked out.

"Darce," Clint agreed.

A three second video.

"Oh!" Angie said. She frowned at the phone. "What have I done to this thing _now_?" And that was it.

"Clint," Darcy whined.

"She's adorable, Darce." It wasn't the first time he'd said it that night, but this time he actually _knew_.

Darcy flicked to the next. Another video, much longer.

"You want me to let you watch this alone?" he asked.

"I—" Darcy began. "I don't want to chase you out..."

He rubbed a hand on her back. "It's okay," Clint said. "I don't mind." He stood and slipped quietly out of the room.

"Almost got in trouble, there," Angie said as soon as Darcy pushed 'play.' "I ran out to show Peg that last picture, and she just about yelled at me for bringing this thing out where Sally Mae might get hold of it." Her smile faded a little. "How come you didn't ever tell me about this fancy future camera thing, DD?" she asked. "You didn't have to sneak pictures of me, you know. I woulda—" Angie stopped, smiling sadly and shaking her head.

"It doesn't matter. It's been about a week since you..." she stopped to take a breath. "Went home. I miss you. Jeeves misses you. Peggy's busy with work, but I'm sure she misses you too, and sweet little Sally Mae's hardly left me alone, he keeps trying to tell me how sorry he is." She shook her head again. "I keep telling him, he was only doing what you asked him to. He had no way of knowing that—"

Angie pressed her lips together and Darcy could see that her cheerful exterior had just been an act.

"I want you to know, DD. I... love you." Angie allowed a tear to trickle down her cheek. "I've tried to write to you, but it's so hard to find the words. If you were here in front of me, I could say it. I could tell you how much I love you, how much I miss you, how much I—how much I always will. I love you."

She took a shaky breath and put on a brave smile, despite the tears. "I'm going to keep working hard, chasing those dazzling lights." Angie wiped the tears off her right cheek. "I'll never forget you, DD. I hope you know how much I—"

The video was over; there were no more pictures.

Darcy sat by herself on the couch in the common room of Avengers Tower, separated from the woman she loved by seven decades.

She pushed play again.

* * *

Darcy stepped outside and squinted at the sun. Steve hadn't been able to coax her out for any hometown tourism recently, but she had agreed to meet him for lunch at one of his favorite places down the street.

"They have free coffee refills, and I'm there enough that not many people bother me for autographs," he cajoled.

Darcy gave in with a laugh. "Fine, but there better be cute waitresses," she said.

Steve smiled slyly. "Well, you'll have to judge for yourself."

There were. Darcy pulled up a chair across from Steve as he sketched Stark Tower. "Did you _pick_ this place because of the cute waitresses?" she wanted to know.

"Not at first," he said, gesturing to the building over her shoulder. "I came here right after I woke up. It has a great view and the sandwiches are good."

His eyes followed blonde hair and a peach-colored uniform.

"Sandwiches, huh?" Darcy said, disbelieving.

She shook her head and smiled. The uniforms kind of reminded her of the Automat's; they had a similar style, even though there was no mint green on them anywhere.

She hadn't watched the video in a couple of days. During the weeks after finding it, Darcy had watched it over and over, then only daily, and now, the ache in her chest had dulled.

Darcy knew she'd always treasure hearing Angie say those words. And even though she would probably need to hear them less and less as she learned to live without her, Darcy knew that she would never forget Angie, and never love her any less.

Steve waved over a waitress, then looked down as his phone vibrated.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Who are you texting?" she asked.

Steve looked as though he'd meant her to catch him. "Just... a friend," he said evasively.

"Uh-huh," Darcy replied, her eyebrow raised.

"What can I get you?" came the sunny question from the pretty girl who approached their table with a coffee pot. "The usual?"

Steve nodded up at her. "For me, thanks, but Darcy hates banana peppers."

The blonde scrunched up her nose. "Me too," she agreed. "The BLT is great, though," she told Darcy.

"Yes," Darcy said emphatically. "Eating bacon is my super power."

The waitress laughed. "I feel the same way!" She filled up Darcy's coffee cup, then Steve's.

"Darcy, this is Beth; Beth, this is my friend Darcy."

Beth raised both eyebrows. "I thought your _friend_ 's name was Sharon," she said.

"Sharon?" Darcy echoed, looking to Steve with a grin.

Steve laughed, caught. "Darcy's just a friend."

"'Friend,' like the actual meaning of the word, not like, _friend_ friend. We're not kissing friends," Darcy informed her. Steve made a face, and Darcy swatted at him. "Shut up; I'm awesome."

"Beth is an actress," Steve volunteered. "Currently starring as the best waitress in Manhattan."

"It's a very important role," Beth agreed, nodding. "So the Captain America Special and a BLT; fries okay?"

Darcy nodded.

"I'll get that in for you," Beth said with a smile. "Shout if you need more coffee or anything."

"Thanks, Beth," Steve said, and she nodded, grabbed the menus, and walked off.

Darcy raised her eyebrow at Steve, not sure which question she wanted to ask first.

She decided on: "Sharon?"

The sheepish look reappeared. "She's... a friend," he insisted again.

"But not the same kind of friend as _me_ ," Darcy continued his sentence for him.

Steve sighed and put down his pencil, closing his sketchbook around it. "At first I started talking to Sharon because she kind of reminded me of Peggy a little. That may have been what drew me to her, but she's her own person. She and I have similar values, similar feelings about the world, similar goals. It's nice to be able to find that here in the futu—in the present."

Darcy smiled as she listened. He talked about Sharon's marksmanship, her aspirations for her career, her laugh, and her determination to always fight him for the last pizza roll. It was good to know that Steve was happy.

"She's totally your girlfriend," Darcy accused when Steve stopped for breath.

There was the barest trace of a blush on his cheeks as he flourished his phone to show Darcy a picture.

"Whoa," she said. "Can she be _my_ girlfriend?"

Steve laughed, and Beth appeared with their lunch, setting Darcy's sandwich in front of her with a whispered, "Extra bacon."

Darcy gasped. "You are a goddess," she told Beth.

"Actually, I am," Beth replied, grinning at Steve. "Remember that play I auditioned for? I got a role—"

"That's so great!" Steve interrupted.

"—It's a really small one," she continued, "But I also got called as an understudy for the antagonist, so there's a chance I could play a main character, maybe, if someone gets sick." She laughed.

Steve congratulated her again.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, grinning. "It's not on Broadway or anything, but that doesn't matter. I just wanted to tell you so that you wouldn't wonder why I wasn't here when rehearsals start."

Darcy ate some fries while Steve asked when and where it was being staged.

"I'll see if I can get you some tickets when they go on sale," Beth assured him. She glanced at Darcy. "And you can bring as many friends as you want."

Darcy smiled at her. "I'd love to come."

* * *

 **Author's Notes (August 9, 2016):** Thank you for reading Dazzling Lights! Please check out the blog: iwillwriteyourfic . blogspot 2016 / 04 / sfw-femslash-flufffest . html


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